Trunks Builds a Time Machine
by MissMCQueen
Summary: In the Future Trunks has battled against, androids, cell, and the forces of evil. Now he faces his toughest battle yet, preventing himself from becoming the president of Capsule Corp.


This is the first time I've really written anything in god knows how long. The tinny little island in the middle of no where that I just so happen to live on is having an anime convention. So I decided to write something for the fan fiction comp.

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Trunks Briefs felt as through he was in hell. Before him stood a mound of paperwork that could rival the hight of his office to the ground, twice. If by some chance it were to fall he would most probably bleed to death from the paper cuts.

Sure being the president of the world's biggest corporation seemed good and all. There were the girls, the money, and the cars. But what was the point in having it all if he was forced to work around the clock. Other people his age were out partying, and frying their brains on illicit substances, while he found himself in the same seat everyday baby sitting files. He'd rather have another round against Brolly than attend another meeting with boring old men who looked as though they were about to kick the bucket at any given moment.

With a childish wine he glanced to the place on the wall that once housed his escape route. Damn parents. Just because he had the habit of occasionally jumping out the window didn't mean they had to brick it up.

Almost as if it were sensing his thoughts, the mound of paper slowly began tipping to the side. Using his quick reflexes Trunks grabbed and steadied the pile before sliding the first sheet off the top. After a quick glance he groaned and massaged his temple. He could feel a headache coming on already.

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After three hours the task was finally complete. Nursing his cramped hand Trunks got out of the chair and stretched. The rest of the day was free, so he could either go home or see what Goten was doing. It was completely unfair how that bastard got to sit at home all day doing nothing, while he was slaving away every hour in hell.

"Mr Briefs," said the voice of his secretary over the intercom.

'Shit,' he internally swore. In a flash the device was lunged into the far wall. Nothing was going to ruin his free afternoon. He turned to escape through the window, only to notice yet again that it no longer existed.

Before he could seek alternative routes of evasion the doors of his office opened and in waltzed his secretary. To his absolute horror she was nursing a pile of paperwork that rivalled the last.

"This just in sir, we had a last minute deal with that company in North City. All these files have to be filled out and processed by the end of the day. There will also be an arranged meeting at one, another at three, and you will be expected to attend a dinner meeting with the CEO at six," in an orderly fashion she began laying out one paper after another. "Good day," and with a quick bow she left the office.

Trunks stood there unable to move, only his hands twitched. This could not be happening. THOSE BASTARDS HAD TAKEN AWAY HIS FREE AFTERNOON!

And in a beam of light the paperwork was soon burnt and disintegrated, along with the desk, the chair, and the entire wall behind it. All that remained was a shaking Trunks with his hand still in the position for a Ki beam.

There was only so much a man could take. It was enough having to deal with the constant pressure from his mother and father, the entire weight of the company, not to mention the daily dose of paper cuts. He had lived like this for far too long and could put up with it no more.

He Quite.

Trunks said this to himself even though it would never be allowed. He had already tried five times already, only to get guilt tripped by his mother, and beaten into a bloody pulp by Vegeta. Simply saying there had to be a solution to get himself out of this mess.

If only he never became president in the first place, if only he'd been forewarned of the horrors yet to come.

Then it suddenly occurred to him. He could go back in time and prevent himself from ever becoming president. Maybe he could somehow save and rebuild this dire future, and prevent all these horrific experiences from ever occurring.

And so Trunks now had a new goal in mind. He would build…… A Time Machine.

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Building a Time Machine was surprisingly easier than he expected, in all honestly he didn't really intend on building one in the first place. To his astonishment he found entire plans for the machine in the computer data base. Either it had been used before to prevent a doomed future, or by his mother to collect retro furniture.

And so he began working on his creation. By day he merely tried to survive the constant hell that was his life, all the while knowing that a better future was soon to come.

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At long last it was finished. So what if he didn't have a clue whether or not it worked, he didn't have time to actually bother testing the damn thing. A brat in the south had accidentally decompressed a capsule house containing their sister and the family was suing the company. The lawsuit paperwork was horrific.

With a smile Trunks picked up a stray screwdriver and scratched a single word into the side of his time machine.

'Hope'

And with that he set the date and jumped in.

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Trunks had chosen the year he turned eight for two reasons. First, because it was probably the best time to manipulate his younger mind into doing what he wanted. And second, because he was positive that no one would recognise him.

With a smile on his face and a song in his head, he stashed the time machine behind a bush and went out to face his past.

What he didn't expect was to be mauled by a black haired midget.

"Trunks, Trunks, I don't believe it! You're really back from the future again!"

Trunks tried to prevent himself from freaking out. "Ah.. hello.. Krillin?"

"Wait; don't tell me, its Cell isn't it? He's back? I just knew he couldn't be gone for good, you've come back from the future to warn us all? " Given how he had responded, Trunks was now certain that he was facing a much younger version of the Krillin he knew.

"..Err. No?"

"Or is it something completely new and different that's going to kill us all? Am I going to die of a disease with a cure that only exists in the future and you've come to give it to me? " Krillin had now begun waving his hands franticly in the air.

Trunks decided it was maybe best to come out with the truth; otherwise he would never be left alone. "Ahh….You see Krillin, Grandpa made me the president of the company, which means I have tones of girls and cars, but never the time to spend with them…… So I've come back to change that."

Krillin fell silent and began staring at his feet. "Oh.. Yeah…. I understand man."

A great silence passed between them.

"You probably don't want me to tell anyone then..."

"I'd prefer you not too."

And yet the silence continued.

Krillin started backing away slowly to escape the awkward moment. "I'll just be on my way," once out of sight he broke into a run.

Trunks groaned. That was one good idea down the toilet. This left him with plan B, mugging the security man and stealing his uniform.

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After three hours of waiting for an opportunity to confront his past self Trunks had come to one conclusion. His father really needed to get a life. All he seemed to do all day was train in the artificial gravity room. No wonder his sister wasn't conceived till he was ten.

Then as if answering his prays a little version of himself came walking out of the building with a soft drink can in hand. He seemed so young and innocent, free from the burdens that would overcome him later on in life, and so perfectly ready for manipulation.

As the little Trunks passed by Trunks grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him into his bush. The little him yelped in surprise.

"Don't make a noise," said the older one.

"What the hell," Little Trunks hissed. "I'm going to tell my parents about you!"

"Yeah whatever," Trunks removed his security guy hat. "Look I know this may sound weird, but I'm actually you from the future, I've come to warn you against ever become president of Capsule Corp."

Little Trunks stared at him like he was mad. "Are you crazy, that's impossible!"

"Believe what you want, no matter what happens you can never agree to take over the company."

"But I think it would be cool."

Trunks grabbed his younger self by the shoulders and began shaking him like there was no tomorrow. "You deluded little idiot, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into, the stress, the paper work, the lack of social life."

"Weirdo," and with that Little Trunk's unprized himself from the other's death like grip and jumped out of the bush. "I'm calling security."

Trunk's huffed and cracked his knuckles, if simply talking to his younger self wasn't going to work, there were more forceful ways of getting the job done.

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At the stroke of midnight a dark figure with violet hair could be seen creeping across the grounds of Capsule Corp. Before the guard on duty could even issue a sound, they were already through one of the upstairs windows.

It had been many years since Trunks had last seen his past bedroom, and over time he had forgotten how his mother had originally decorated it. Seeing it now he thanked Kami he had.

Trunks inwardly cringed at the dancing bears that lined the walls, and the numerous stuffed animals scattered across the floor. At long last he could finally sympathise with his father for burning his bedspread, given how it was smothered in pink bunny patterns.

The longer he spent here the more he was beginning to dislike his past self.

"_Trunks_……," whispered the older version in a ghostly tone while hidden in the shadows.

"_Trunks_."

The older version growled in annoyance. "Oh just wake up you annoying little brat!"

The little him groaned, sat up, and began rubbing his eyes. As soon as he caught sight of Trunks hidden in the shadows he jumped back in shock. "You again!"

The other began smiling homicidally "You didn't listen to me Trunks; you ignored what I had to say, because of that, MR FLUFFY BUNNY WILL PAY!" Old Trunks whipped out a stuffed rabbit from behind his back. If memory recalls this was one of his precious possessions as a child.

"What!" Little Trunks scanned over his bed to see that Mr Bunny was in fact gone.

"You see Trunks," the older version began slowly ripping off the right arm. "I tried to be nice before, I tired to warn you," he then started on the left. "But would you listen? If you EVER become the president of Capsule Corporation bad things will happen, VERY bad things" It was then that Mr Fluffy Bunny lost his head. "Do we get that?"

The little Trunks began nodding franticly while trying not to cry.

"Good," and with that the toy rabbit fell to the floor.

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Trunks felt it was a job well done as he slowly made his return to the future. There was no way his younger self would ever have the courage to accept top job. As the future appeared before him Trunks felt as though something was drastically wrong.

All the surrounding buildings appeared either damaged or destroyed, and the entire area looked as though a giant had a temper tantrum. There was a faint rumbling in the distance, and Trunks jumped out of his time machine to investigate.

Out of nowhere a gigantic crowd of screaming people came stampeding towards him. He moved to get out of the way only to get knocked into the ground.

"RUN ITS CELL!"

The once president picked himself up out of the dirt. Wait; wasn't Cell dead and long gone? Before Trunks could further contemplate this he was knocked back into the ground by another crowd of people from behind.

"RUN! IT'S SOMETHING NEW AND DIFFERENT THAT'S GOING TO KILL US ALL!"

This time he spat the dirt out of his mouth but didn't bother getting up, maybe going back in time wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Oh Trunks Darling."

He looked up to see a slightly more washed out version of his mother standing over him. "Mom?"

"Oh you won't believe it, I only just found out that Krillin passed away two years ago from a disease that's now curable. If only we could go back in time and give him the cure, wouldn't that be nice."

Trunks groaned and buried his face back into the dirt, no longer caring if he suffocated. Today just wasn't his day.


End file.
